Instant Spander ficlets
by Kahuna Burger
Summary: Various ficlets that were written for spur of the moment drabble posts with minimal editing. Each chapter is titled with the prompt used. All are slashy.
1. Burn

**Standard Disclaimers Apply.**

**A/N : Written for the Fall for Spike and Xan Drabble Tree. Prompt : burn.**

Xander held the heavy silver lighter in his hand. He'd taken it out of Spike's coat that last morning, part of a running joke in their battle over secondhand smoke. Xander would steal the lighter, Spike would come to get it back, Xander would pretend to run away from him, making all the potentials laugh, Spike would catch him as soon as they were out of sight of the girls and pin him against a handy wall...

Xander spun the wheel and looked at the flame. The last morning, Spike had been distracted by Buffy and plans for the final battle before they could have their chase, but the day before, Xander had been against the wall with a vampire searching him very inefficiently for the lighter and Spike had whispered in his ear, "Someday you're gonna push me too far, and I'm going to forget the house full of chaperons around the corner."

He put his hand near the flame, trying not to flinch back as he remembered what he had said. "Can it be someday soon?" He knew he was acting like a gradeschooler putting frogs down his crush's jacket, but if their little game got those blue eyes focused entirely on him it was worth it.

"Soon as we clean up this First wanker."

But Spike had given his life for that cleanup, and the someday had never come. And now Xander sat with his lighter and tried to experience some tiny fraction of what his... friend had. Spike had burned, Buffy had said, the amulet using him as fuel for some sort of mega sunshine spell that wiped out the ubervamps and collapsed the Hellmouth. And Spike could have ripped it off or tried to run, but he'd stayed. He chose to burn and it was almost every day that Xander tried to replicate the feat, but his survival instinct was always too strong and he flinched back from the heat before he could do more than singe his palm.

He hid the small burns from the girls and stocked a lot of aloe, and refused to articulate even to himself the idea that maybe if he could show a tiny fraction of the strength Spike had that the Powers would find him worthy. That maybe he would deserve Spike coming back if he could burn.


	2. Unexpected packages in the mail

**Standard disclaimers apply.**

**Skuzzy's Spander Pick-Me-Up Drabble Post**

"We got a package."

Xander snatched the small box away from the undead moocher wandering in the door. "And by 'we' you mean, ME, the person who actually lives h- oh." His rant was cut short when he noticed that the scrawled address lable did indeed read 'Xander and Spike'.

"Yeah, oh, though I suppose as the tenant of record in this basement abode, you can open it."

"Who would send a package to both of us?" He tore open the generic USPS box as Spike pulled a bottle of whiskey out of his coat and set it on the coffee table.

The vampire took an overt sniff and shrugged. "I'd say Dogboy. Aside from the lingering weed, he's the only one knows I might be found here who is far enough away to need to send mail."

Xander grabbed the bottle and took a quick swig. He was too sober to acknowledge any ongoing reasons for Spike to be found in his basement. Thus fortified, he opened the package to find an empty Jack Daniels bottle and a roach clip holding only the tiny end scrap of a joint. Puzzled he pulled the note out from underneath and read it.

"Guys, wanted to thank you, it was just what I needed after the White Room and the thing with Wills. I'll be in town for the Fourth... Do you think we could try it sober?"

Spike held very still, obviously unsure if Xander would be able to deal peacefully with even the oblique reference without the plausible deniabilty of a good buzz. After a long moment of looking at the empty bottle in the box, the young man picked up the full one from the table, only to reseal it.

"Oz usually has pretty good ideas," he said, moving a little nervously towards Spike.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, but... not something we've tried... might need to practice a little before the Fourth."

The vampire wanted to smirk, but found himself smiling instead. "Better give it a shot then. Wouldn't want to disapoint the pup."


	3. Pet

**Standard disclaimers apply.**

**Fall for S/X 2012 drabble tree.**

Spike knew he should object. Hell, he HAD objected the first time, strenuously enough to set off his chip and leave him twitching in the Watcher's bathtub. But Harris had only caught his head and protected it from hitting the porcelain sides and making things worse, then continued to** pet** the vampire's face and hair, gameface no deterrent. "Don't do that, it only hurts you," the boy had said with concern, then raised the mug of blood he'd been sent in with and hand fed Spike while learning the contours of his changed face by touch.

He'd expected the touches to get ruder, there was always a low lying current of relaxed arousal to the encounters, and had feared the worst when he was sent to live with the boy. But two weeks as roommates, including those days when even the last defense of his words had been stolen, and they sat on the couch, watching footie because he'd finally answered the polite question of what he'd prefer, with a warm hand rubbing at the back of his neck, occasionally drifting up to scratch his scalp or down to stroke the length of his arm. Warm blood at hand, Xander's hand because he still insisted on feeding Spike even though the vampire was never bound anymore except for an ankle chain overnight. And Spike shouldn't have given up objecting to that either, but the blood was fresh from the butcher's every day and blood bank rejects a few times a week, and enough that he was starting to recover rather than just not starving anymore.

The match was over and the mug empty, so Spike went and rinsed the blood out while the boy pulled the couch into a bed and stripped down to his boxers and tee. Then the chain was pulled from beneath the orange chair and Xander waited patiently for him to sit and be secured for the night. His first night here, the vampire had practically thrown himself into the naugahyde monstrosity, more relieved than he cared to admit even to himself that he wasn't going to be brought into the bed. Now, with the slight chill that even California developed at night in January and the residual warmth on his skin already fading, Spike looked at his only reprieve from the constant gentle touches that he was subjected to whenever Harris wasn't working and he wondered.

He wondered if perhaps he should try objecting to this.


	4. Long list of punishments

**Standard disclaimers apply.**

**Fall for S/X drabble tree.**

Spike had considered a long list of punishments that he might face in his eventual afterlife - which, for the record, he had meant to be a far longer eventuality than seemed to have come with tacky necklaces and burning sunlight. The consideration had only begun after the soul, as he was fairly sure that happily soulless demons who died doing soulless demon things either dispersed, recycled or went to to a demon heaven where kicking ass and causing chaos was rewarded with eternal blowjobs from pretty warm humans.

But he had died with a human soul in charge, so he suspected eternal blowjobs weren't on the menu unless it was him giving them to fungus demons.

Of the possible hells he might be sent to, he hadn't considered one where Harris, stress lines and eyepatch in place, was tying him firmly to that damn orange chair. "What the... I know I joked about you being the roommate from Hell, but seriously?"

"What makes you think this is Hell?"

He shrugged as well as he was able. "Wasn't exactly expecting wings and a loaner harp after what I've done, yeah?"

He hadn't seen that smile since the vineyard and admitted (to himself) that he'd missed it. "Maybe I got killed by an ubervamp and this is MY eternal reward."

"Your Heaven is back in this stinking pit? Pull the other one, mate."

"Back when I had you at my mercy but with the nerve to do something about it other than jerk off in the shower and hope I didn't mumble anything that would let you know I wasn't thinking of Anya?" For all the trappings of force, Harris waited until he'd received an enthusiastic return of his kiss and a welcoming smirk before he slid to his knees and started working at Spike's belt with his teeth. The vampire heard something suspiciously like, "Sounds like Heaven to me," mumbled into the denim.

He was seriously pissed when he got yanked back into Angel's office, but gaurdedly pleased when he heard the whelp had survived Sunnydale afterall.


End file.
